Tuesday night I launched over the handle bars of my mountain bike, beautiful in flight for at least a second. Then, 240 lbs hit the ground in a heap of anguish and pain. Once I assured myself that I had not broken my back, and my lungs finally filled with air, I knew I had done it. Yep, I had broken my left collar bone. Man, this mountain biking thing was supposed to be healthy for me, you know, to get me into better shape, to re-energize me, put some fun back into life.
Well, I am much stronger than when I first started. My resting heart rate is now back in the normal range, and I am feeling stronger, longer. Until this. I’ll have to get the bike to the shop to get it checked out, because once I regain use of my broken wing I’ll be riding again. No doubt… My wife is mildy amused, I think.
The worst part was the trip home after it happened. I was about two miles out in the woods, with some serious ground between me and “sanctuary”. So, making sure that my left hand gripped the handle bars as good as it could, I made that agonizing ride home, making gutteral animal sounds as I pedaled along. As I climbed the last hill, I realized that I had come along way since I started riding 3 months ago. I was strong enough to ride even thru the red-hot, searing pain in my shoulder. Yeah, I was. I had changed.
All of the discomfort of those early rides, the sore muscles, the exhaustion and nausea, had paid off. I had developed the deep reserves to make it through it when it really mattered.
I am not sure, but somehow I think that life’s trials are intended to be like this – spiritual excercise that makes us stronger as we learn to press into God for our strength.
I sense that other things are beginning to change within me as well, things that God has patiently been waiting to address for a long time now.
OK, time to go find another Darvocet!
Edit- I discovered three weeks later that I had also broken three ribs, that explains my inability to lay down in bed!!